


on the day of the forty-three sunsets

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - His Dark Materials, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “He’s got no daemon!” Baekhyun exclaims. “You don’t think that’s weird enough?”“I do,” Jongin admits. “But you know, hyung, there’s gotta be a good explanation for that.”Chanyeol sets his glass of coconut juice on the table with a loud bang. “His folks sold his soul to Satan, I reckon. For the family business. Or he murdered somebody.”“Well, we are in an island,” Lu Han reasons. “You losers have seen that Korean drama where this hugeass plane crashes and they got stuck in an island and the survivors kill each other off, right?”“But murderers still got daemons,” Baekhyun says.“Either that or there’s hell,” Lu Han says. “If it’s the latter then I’m really sorry for you all, sick bastards.”- Jongin, Kyungsoo, and the story of the forty-three islands of Yansung-ri





	on the day of the forty-three sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> loosely based on Philip Pullman's _His Dark Materials_. 
> 
> this fic is dedicated to a. sending her lots of love in the only way i know how. hope you'll all enjoy!

**Title:** on the day of the forty-three sunsets  
**Summary:** _“He’s got no daemon!” Baekhyun exclaims. “You don’t think that’s weird enough?”_  
_“I do,” Jongin admits. “But you know, hyung, there’s gotta be a good explanation for that.”_  
_Chanyeol sets his glass of coconut juice on the table with a loud bang. “His folks sold his soul to Satan, I reckon. For the family business. Or he murdered somebody.”_  
_“Well, we are in an island,” Lu Han reasons. “You losers have seen that Korean drama where this hugeass plane crashes and they got stuck in an island and the survivors kill each other off, right?”_  
_“But murderers still got daemons,” Baekhyun says._  
_“Either that or there’s hell,” Lu Han says. “If it’s the latter then I’m really sorry for you all, sick bastards.”_

-Jongin, Kyungsoo, and the story of the forty-three islands of Yansung-ri

**Pairing:** Do Kyungsoo/Kim Jongin  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Warnings** : Graphic language, no plot

~O~

“Un jour, j’ai vu le soleil se coucher quarante-trois fois!”  
Et un peu plus tard tu ajoutais:  
“Tu sais… quand on est tellement triste on aime les couchers de soleil…”  
“Le jour des quarante-trois fois tu étais donc tellement triste?”  
Mais le petit prince ne répontit pas.

…

“One day,” you said to me, “I saw the sunset forty-three times!”  
And a little later you added:  
“You know– one loves the sunset, when one is so sad…”  
“Were you so sad, then?” I asked, “On the day of the forty-three sunsets?”  
But the little prince made no reply.

  
\- Chapter VI of Antoine de Saint Exupery’s _The Little Prince_ (1943)

~O~

It’s only past eight when they arrive. The temperature is comfortably warm, and the sun is high enough for everyone to get a good look of the beach. Small sand dunes have rolled over in deference to the mighty sea breeze, and the glittering blue waters is dazzling in its vastness. The mountain tops are covered with clouds, but the rest is thick with green. The little patches of grass are slick with dewdrops. Tiny, friendly insects are stirring.

Jongin, armed with a backpack of clothes, a carry-on full of snacks and the flip-flops he bought just last night, takes the whole place in.

Lu Han nudges him with an elbow. “You already feeling it, man?”

Jongin inhales. “Yeah.”

“It’s too bad we can only stay for six days,” Lu Han says before moving on to their hut. Jongin follows him.

There’s five of them in the group: him, Lu Han, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Yixing. Yixing and Lu Han will be moving back to China in a few weeks, for different matters, and so Baekhyun had them all up and going for an impromptu trip to Yansung-ri, a small group of islands a few miles off the Southern coast. Baekhyun wanted them to go “island hopping”, as Yixing and Lu Han had never done it before. Jongin hadn’t either, so he dropped everything and came with them.

Jongin doesn’t get the tourist-y vibes he had when he visited Jeju once, but perhaps it’s because they are the only people here, as far as he can tell.

“Not a lot of people come in the middle of springtime,” a woman in her late forties tells them. She’s small and wiry, and her smile is welcoming when she greets them. She has a panther for a daemon, which startles and scares Jongin a bit. “It’s quite a shame. The royal flame tree only blooms in the middle of April here, when it is warm enough. It is a rather beautiful sight.”

“I can help with that,” Baekhyun says. Indeed, he could. Baekhyun works for a start-up marketing company.

The lady laughs. Her daemon’s long tail swishes and curls around the lady’s left leg. “Well, I am delighted to hear such a kind offer,” she says. “I’ll have you kids settle in for a while. My son will be waiting for you at the dock, just a couple yards walk from the rest house, and he’ll be giving you an orientation on how the trip will go before you set forth for island number two tomorrow morning.”

“Neat.” Chanyeol grins. Emilia, his collie daemon, who has now started jumping up and over the beds, seems to agree.

As soon as the lady leaves, Pierangelli softly butts his head against Jongin’s hip. “We won’t be doing any drowning, will we?” she says.

Jongin senses the distress in his daemon’s voice. He goes down on one knee and ruffles her soft, snowy-white fur. “There’ll be a boat, of course,” he says. “If it’s too small, we’ll just throw Baekhyun and Chanyeol overboard.”

“We’ll be a bit too far from land in between trips,” Pierangelli says. “I know. I checked the map.”

His daemon is such a worrier. Jongin doesn’t know what that says about him. “No water. No off-course swimming, I promise.”

“If our vessel capsizes, well, don’t expect me to save you,” Pierangelli sniffs.

Jongin chuckles. He wraps a hand on her strong wolf paw. “Of course.”

~O~

They set off for the dock thirty minutes past noon. The sand is hot, but not scorching. A flock of seagulls appear behind a thick band of clouds, roaming the skies like a blanket fluttering over them. Jongin finds one royal flame tree bunched between the tall oakwood ones. It’s in full bloom. The bright, rose-gold flowers dance as the branches swing with the spring wind, prettier than any orchid Jongin has ever seen. The lady was right; it really is a beautiful sight.

He scrambles for his phone in his pocket and snaps a photo of the scenery. Then, he takes a selfie with Pierangelli for good measure.

“The reception is godawful in this place, though,” Lu Han complains as they walk side by side to the dock. His daemon, a mouse named Byrone, is admiring the view from Lu Han’s shirt pocket with her beady eyes. 

“You can’t have everything, hyung,” Jongin says. He doesn’t say that he feels pretty much content at this moment, with his beloved Pierangelli prowling beside him, and the strain of the life he’s been living thus far all but left behind in Seoul.

The dock is nothing but a series of heavy wooden planks held together by thick, ancient nails, the underside laden with barnacles and moss. There are three humble fishing boats of average size, all safely tied to the shore.

There’s a man waiting for them, just as the lady said. He’s standing still at the bows where the gentle waves have come up to lick at his bare feet. His dark brown oilskin pants are clinging to his legs, all wet from the sea.

“Awesome place you’ve got here, sheriff,” Chanyeol crows by way of greeting. At his feet, Emilia wags her tail in palpable excitement.

The man gives them a tiny bow and an even tinier grin. “Thanks. I’m Kyungsoo, and I will be showing you around the islands for the entire duration of your stay here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yixing says. “I’m Zhang Yixing.” He holds out his hand with a perfect, ninety-degree bow, and Kyungsoo steps out of the waters to take it. “And here are my friends Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Jongin and Lu Han. We just arrived from Seoul this morning.”

“Ahh,” Kyungsoo says, as he shakes the rest of their hands. “City folks, all of you?”

“I’m from Pohang, actually,” Baekhyun says. “Still, had no opportunities for any ten-kilometer hikes up deserted mountains, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure you guys are up for the challenge,” Kyungsoo says amiably. He then brandishes a stick seemingly out of nowhere and starts drawing circles at the sand. Straight to business, this guy.

Jongin huddles along with the rest of his friends and their daemons in a semi-circle to watch. Baekhyun’s parakeet daemon is fluttering restlessly about until she finds a good spot on Baekhyun’s snapback.

“As you all know, we’re gonna do a lot of exploring for five days,” Kyungsoo tells them. “We locals don’t have any names for our islands since they’re so many of them, and it’s easier to track them with how close they are to the Yansung-ri proper if we go by numbers instead. Anyways, so. Yansung-ri proper’s island number one, and tomorrow morning we’ll be heading for island number two. It’s the smallest one, so we’ll only be staying there for around a day. Then we’ll sail for island number three, and we’ll be doing lots of hiking – and fishing, maybe, if you guys want to. We’ll be there for two days, max. Afterwards there’s island number four, and we’ll stay there for one, or one and a half, depends on how long you guys would like to stay. There are two hot springs out there and a great snorkeling spot. And then we’ll be back here in Yangsung-ri on the final day.”

“So, three islands?” Chanyeol says.

Kyungsoo nods. “The rest of the thirty-nine islands are…” He pauses. “Currently inaccessible. Government reasons, I guess.”

“I didn’t know there’d be snorkeling,” Lu Han says. “I should’ve brought some equipment with me.”

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s a shop there that lends gear for a small fee,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s an old snorkeling spot, and the Han family has been taking care of the reef for generations.”

For some reason, Pierangelli has started licking Jongin’s fingers. She only does that when he thinks Jongin needs some degree of comforting.

“You’ve got boats strong enough to hold all of us, don’t you?” Lu Han says. Byrone slinks out of his pocket and climbs up to Lu Han’s shoulder, sniffing the air before whispering something to Lu Han’s ear.

Kyungsoo nods. “I can assure you my boat can hold all six of us for five-day’s worth of meager seafaring.” He looks at Pierangelli and adds, “Or seven.”

Yixing’s daemon, a magnificent scoops owl named Rika, hoots knowingly. “The weather is good for the journey,” she says, addressing Kyungsoo directly. “Will there be food for us when we get there or will we be hunting for ourselves, like those Into The Wild stuff they do in TV shows?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes grow wider than it already is, which looks sort of comical on his small face. Jongin can understand his surprise. Daemons don’t really talk to humans besides their own, but Rika has always been out of the norm. And well, Yixing is plenty unusual himself.

“We’ll have food set out for you in every island we visit, of course,” Kyungsoo says. “But if you’re interested in doing a little shopping of your own, well, I can’t see why you guys can’t.”

Rika flaps her wings a few times, immensely pleased.

Kyungsoo scratches his nape. “So I guess that’s it then,” he says. “I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow. Please wear light clothing, and eat lots. The lady master will have your breakfast ready as soon as the first edge of the sun appears.” 

“I hope this won’t be the first time your mother will be cooking for five, hungry grown men,” Chanyeol jokes. “We can be savages, sometimes.”

“I’d like to clarify that this asshole speaks for no one but himself,” Baekhyun says.

Chanyeol punches him on the arm, and Baekhyun laughs.

A healthy flush of pink colors Kyungsoo’s cheeks for a moment. He backs up to the water again. “See you guys tomorrow,” he says, somewhat finally, and waves.

Jongin is as quiet as Pierangelli as they walk back to the hut. He’s not nervous for tomorrow ꟷof course he’s notꟷ but there’s something unpleasant settling in his gut that he can’t put a finger on. He mulls over the whole exchange with Kyungsoo while Lu Han's and Chanyeol’s daemons play around in the coarse, white sand.

Jongin only realizes what it is that’s been bothering him when, once they’ve arrived, Baekhyun calls for their attention and whispers at them harshly, “No, for real, you idiots. Was I the only one who noticed, or did you guys too? That man Kyungsoo’s got no daemon!”

~O~

It’s the understatement of the year to say that Jongin slept horribly last night. He kept on dreaming about the same thing, over and over: the ground splitting up under his feet, rising so high like canyons. He was on one side of the steep, and Pierangelli was on the other. They were going to be separated. As the earth quaked, Jongin yelled for her, and Pierangelli, in her desperation, leapt as far as she could to get to him.

She never made it, and Jongin watched the whole thing on loopꟷ his dear wolf daemon, his life-long companion, falling endlessly into the deep abyss.

Jongin woke up in the middle of the night, a scream stuck in his throat. He’d been dreaming the entire sequence for the seventh time. Pierangelli made herself a spot on Jongin’s tiny bed, and had been licking Jongin’s fingers all throughout the series of nightmares. He sunk his face on Pierangelli’s fur, grateful for the warmth.

He thought of Kyungsoo and the chilling absence of his daemon. It made his chest ache and his stomach curl, in fear or in sadness, he did not know.

The gang are all ready before daybreak, and the lady master has laid out their breakfast in a sleek table. It’s a modest buffet, and their plates are clean in minutes.

“Best set of rice cakes I’ve ever tasted in my entire life,” Chanyeol purrs. He tosses the banana leaves at the side of the serving plate. “The lady master is an amazing cook.”

“Too bad his son is the weirdest person I’ve ever seen in my entire life as well,” Baekhyun says, his voice low. “I mean, really. I’ve been up all night thinking of an explanation on why or how a person could ever have no daemon at all, and no dice.”

“Maybe she’s hidden herself,” Yixing intones.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “I think our daemons would have noticed that on their own. I’m onto this guyꟷ I’m not sure if we can entrust our lives to someone who’s… I don’t know. _Strange_.”

“And whoever came up with this trip,” Lu Han says. “Jesus, Baek.”

“I’m just saying that we shouldꟷ I don’t know. Just keep on the look-out.”

“You don’t think he’s weird,” Rika interjects suddenly, stirring from Yixing’s side of the table. “You think he’s not human.”

They all pause, and then Chanyeol guffaws. “Byun Baekhyun," Chanyeon cheerfully chides. "You have _got_ to stop watching all those sci-fi B-movies you rent out every Saturday night, you assꟷ”

“Fuck off!” Baekhyun screeches.

“Oh man, so you’re like, jerking off to the idea that you’ve just met aꟷ what, a _mutant_?” Lu Han laughs. “And here I am thinking you couldn’t get any more ridiculous.”

“Well, he could be a half-human,” Baekhyun’s daemon, Kantour, supplies.

“Oh my god,” Chanyeol says, laughing hard.

“Baekhyun hyung, I don’t think he’s a mutant,” Jongin joins in, cracking a smile for the first time this morning. 

“He’s got no daemon!” Baekhyun exclaims. “You don’t think that’s weird enough?”

“I do,” Jongin admits. “But you know, hyung, there’s gotta be a good explanation for that.”

Chanyeol sets his glass of coconut juice on the table with a loud bang. “His folks sold his soul to Satan, I reckon. For the family business. Or he murdered somebody.”

“Well, we are in an island,” Lu Han reasons. “You losers saw that Korean drama where this hugeass plane crashes and they got stuck in an island and the survivors kill each other off, right?”

“But murderers still got daemons,” Baekhyun says.

“Either that or there’s hell,” Lu Han says. “If it’s the latter then I’m really sorry for you all, sick bastards.”

“Well, what kind of genetic aberration would have caused him to have no daemon?” Chanyeol says, mock serious. “Do you think it’s because of the mom? Or is it the dad?”

“I like Kyungsoo’s mom ꟷshe makes great rice cakesꟷ but I bet it’s her,” Baekhyun says. “I mean, she’s got a ginormous killer cat for a daemon.”

“No offense, but you have a _parakeet_ for a daemon,” Lu Han says. “You might wanna admit you have a complex there, buddy.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Baekhyun says brightly. On his shoulder, Kantour chirps in solidarity.

~O~

After much speculation over Kyungsoo’s apparent lack of a daemon, Yixing had them ushering themselves out of the hut at the hint of sunrise. It’s not becoming of them, he reasoned, to gossip about the lady master’s son in her own house like a bunch of townies.

They walk near the edge of the beach, mostly because Emilia wanted to frolic amongst the shore crabs, and really, who could ever say no to the puppy dog eyes? Pierangelli dutifully stays away from the salty waters, nose held up in the air.

Jongin first notices the bats flying overheadꟷ he’s never seen bats coming out this early in the morning. Mostly, he doesn’t really saw bats in the cities that much. He watches them closely as they come ‘round and ‘round the splash of almond trees. Then, Jongin spots a small cave far ahead, half-hidden under a swath of thunbergias.

Jongin spins around, and thinks that this place has a lot more to it than at first glance, the enigmatic island already revealing much of itself the more he narrows his eyes, the more he looks at it a lot closely.

“Something the matter?” Pierangelli says. Her claws sink easily in the sand, her paws crushing the tiny shells.

Jongin adjusts the straps of his bag. It’s been digging rather sharply on his collarbone. “Yansung-ri’s got an eerie feel to it. Maybe it’s the weather.” It’s that time of the season where the weather can be a bit temperamental, a bit too much of everything. Too hot or too cold. The fog by the hillside is thick and harrowing, almost swallowing the island whole.

Maybe that’s why almost nobody comes.

“You like it here,” Pierangelli says. She sounds almost accusing, and it makes Jongin laugh despite himself. “I’m leaving you if you decide to go all Jack Dawson on me.”

“You never got the romance out of that movie, have you?” Jongin says. “Well, I’m sorry, Rose Parker, but I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I know,” Pierangelli says, nipping at Jongin’s fingers affectionately.

They arrive at the dock. Kyungsoo’s standing at the same spot where they first met him, like he never left the place. Baekhyun looks at them all conspiratorially, and Lu Han rolls his eyes.

“Strap your life vests on over here!” Kyungsoo instructs, pointing at the nearby rows of the orange floatation devices, situated right next to the gallon of motor oil. He helps them all squeeze into them, and they are on the fishing boat before they know it.

Pierangelli growls at Kyungsoo when the boat slightly tips to one side. Jongin lays a hand on his wolf daemon, shushing her, all the while smiling sheepishly at their guide. “She gets antsy whenever we’re at sea.”

Kyungsoo nods in understanding, like he gets this a lot, and gestures for them to sit tight. He unravels the rope from the mooring, and pushes the fishing boat further into the waters. His arms are sunburnt and surprisingly strong.

Kyungsoo gingerly steps into the vessel. He pushes a lever down, and the rotor comes alive. “Alright, fellas. We’ll be in number two in about thirty, forty minutes. I hope none of you get sick or anything. I don’t have a bucket with me.”

“What if we can’t help it?” Jongin says, because he’s more terrible than Pierangelli when it comes to seasickness.

Kyungsoo blinks. “Well, if you really can’t help it then by all means.” He juts his chin at the clear blue water.

Chanyeol loudly tells them then, “Puking overboard is pretty amateur. Back in my pop’s day, the world is kinda their toilet, man.”

“Like I said, that asshole doesn’t speak for us,” Baekhyun says to Kyungsoo.

Jongin thinks he saw something in the water move, so close to the boat, but it’s gone before he could really see much of it. He figures that it’s just a blip in the sea, and instead listens raptly to whatever Kyungsoo is saying about the underwater creatures found in the straits.

…

Baekhyun, the bastard, must have forgotten the whole vendetta he’d orchestrated against the Yansung-ri native, and is now hanging around Kyungsoo like a heady, cloying scent. Kyungsoo seems neutral with the new attention, if not annoyed. Once they’ve arrived the new island, the new duo is sitting cross-legged underneath a palm tree, as Kyungsoo teaches Baekhyun how to make a tow line.

“You need to make a figure eight knot hereꟷ no, not there. Right here at the snap shackle,” Kyungsoo says at the struggling Baekhyun. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, now slide it over.”

“The fuck, it ain’t adjusting! What the hell,” Baekhyun gripes.

Kyungsoo must have the patience of a real, goddamn saint, because he takes another piece of rope and shows Baekhyun how it’s done for the nth time.

“Wow,” Byrone squeaks from Lu Han’s palm. “Wasn’t he insulting Kyungsoo’s mom just a while ago?”

“Come on. You totally saw that one coming,” Emilia says. “As if Baekhyun never latches himself onto every mystery he comes across.”

Yixing laughs quite fondly. “Well, that’s Baekhyun for you.”

“He seems alright,” Lu Han says, and Bryone nods her puny, rodent head. “Kyungsoo, I mean. Daemon or no, he’s a cool dude.”

Jongin can feel the vibrations coming from Pierangelli’s throat as she rumbles in agreement.

It’s pretty safe to say that the whole trip wasn’t a total disaster. Kyungsoo is a master seafarer, and all five of them had watched and listened in awe as he showed them the tools of the trade he’s learnt from living in a fishing village all his life. His sense of direction came with the accuracy of a compass, and Jongin, who would never survive in Seoul without Daum and Naver Maps installed in his phone, is duly impressed. And the fishing boat, despite its apparent old age, was sturdy all throughout the journey, which is more than awesome.

“Hey, Kyungsoo-ssi!” Chanyeol waves from behind them. “Got any room for a new student?”

Kyungsoo looks at all of them long-sufferingly, and Jongin and Lu Han laugh.

~O~

There’s a rest house by the shore, owned by a foreigner whose name Jongin can’t pronounce. He asks the tourists to call him Ben instead.

“I can speak Korean,” Ben says, tipping his golden hat at them. “But excuse my pronunciation. It’s still the early days.”

Jongin nods in sympathy. He’s learning English for the dance academy, and he’s sure he sounds like a gargling frog whenever he speaks in English to his students. He does try, though.

Ben’s spotted chameleon daemon is perched awkwardly on his walking stick, regarding the newcomers with her smart, reptilian eyes. Byrone is back hiding in Lu Han’s shirt pocket.

Kyungsoo converses with Ben easily enoughꟷ or at least, he’s not bristling at the fact that Kyungsoo’s daemon is nowhere in sight, unlike Jongin and his friends had. 

And so they’ve got two guides for the price of one, showing them all around island number two.

…

“For what you folks call a small island, the place is pretty damn big if you ask me,” Baekhyun says, panting as he goes. They’re following a trail up an inactive volcano, just so they could be in the exact spot where the Portuguese explorer Fernão Mendes Pinto first saw the mountains of South Jeolla. 

“Everything in an island is big. Very big, for you citylanders, especially,” Ben says.

Jongin’s shirt is soaked, both at the front and at the back. He’s sure he smells funny already, since Pierangelli’s already made a trail of her own and is barreling through the undergrowth with her characteristic fierceness.

Lu Han lands in a mudpile and swears colorfully than any sailor on earth, much to everyone’s amusement. “Fuck me,” he mutters. “My girlfriend’s gonna be upset– I totally caked these shoes she gave me.”

“Hey,” Yixing calls out from the back a moment later. “Can I have one of those stick thingies, please?” He lifts a shaking finger to point at Ben’s own staff.

Suddenly, Kyungsoo unsheathes the machete he’s been carrying and hacks a nearby fig tree into pieces. He tosses a branch to every one of them, and gives the biggest one to Yixing.

“Thank you,” Yixing gasps. He’s staring at the branch reverently.

There’s a new thicket up ahead, and Kyungsoo leads the way with his trusty machete. Tall bamboo trees line the trail like lampposts, and all throughout the hike Jongin tries not to touch or hold onto them, just as Kyungsoo told them to. The skins of the bamboo are more irritating than nettles, but far, far better than the nebulous toxins any lacquer tree can conjure. He trips on a few wayward branches along the stretch, but Ben has his arm a millisecond before he could totally fall over himself.

“We’ve got pilgrims coming up here every June and September,” Ben says in a voice not so much above a whisper. “Young and old, city dwellers and not. A few Westerners such as myself seek this kind of climb for the spirit-rousing experience. Or for the excellent view.”

“Those pilgrims must be out of their goddamn rockers,” Baekhyun mumbles. “This excellent view better be worth the wounds.”

Ben laughs heartily at that while Kyungsoo leads them to a new trail, silent as ever.

…

They’re a quarter way from the top of the volcano, and this is their destination.

The view is breathtaking.

The whole trek took them two and half-hours, but whatever exhaustion Jongin had felt gets snuffed out of him in an instant. He can see all forty-three islands, even the peaks of the mountains of South Jeolla, with startling clarity. The air is cool, and the yellow perching birds on the evergreen spindles sing them a tune. It’s serene, and Jongin feels largely at peace.

Pierangelli is at the edge of the cliff, no doubt thinking about how far the meadow would be if she jumps from this height, and Jongin starkly remembers his dream of losing her.

Without knowing, his gaze lands on Kyungsoo, standing by the clifftops like all the daemons are. He’s looking at nowhere but the sea, and Jongin wonders.

~O~

They’re back in the rest house before dusk came. The beds are small but comfortable enough. Jongin has called dibs on the lower bunk bed because of Pierangelli, but mostly because he pees a lot at nighttime.

Jongin wakes up at nine-thirty in the evening, feeling for the bathroom in the dark because everyone’s fast asleep and he doesn’t want to be a dick. He turns a knob open, but it’s just the closet. After a few minutes of groping the walls, Jongin gives up and goes to tinkle by the cluster of ferns outside.

He’s about to head back in when he sees a figure sprawled sideways by the edge of the sea. Jongin is frozen on his spot. Ben had been telling them about spirits roaming the island at night. 

He thinks about whether or not he should proceed, before inching his way towards the shore.

Jongin breathes a sigh of relief when he recognizes who it is. It’s just Kyungsoo.

And he’s asleep.

On the sand, so close to the water that the waves are more than ready to claim him.

Jongin then catches something move at the corner of his eyeꟷ it’s Ben, beckoning him with his wooden staff. Jongin slowly approaches him, daring not to make a sound in the sand as he does. Pierangelli is out of the rest house as well, feeling the strong pull of her human, and curious as to why Jongin is taking so long to pee.

“He’s asleep on the beach,” Jongin says to Ben. “Is thatꟷ normal here?” He knows it’s not. Ben and his wife have their own wicker hut, a few good yards away from the shoreline.

Ben sighs. He gestures for Jongin and Pierangelli to sit on the collection of dead logs. His chameleon lays on his lap, and Ben strokes her skin with old, tender fingers. The chameleon changes from a dull brown color to splashes of red and green. 

“Yansung-ri is a fishing town, I’m sure you’ve gathered,” Ben starts.

Jongin nods slowly, adjusting himself on his seat. Pierangelli throws a quick glance at Jongin before turning all of her attention to Ben.

Ben then says, “The people could make a fortune here in these islands, if they so wish to be, with fishing ꟷthe catch is always good, and the waters so pristine that if you dive headfirst you can see the reefs in all their splendor, with your own eyes, unassistedꟷ but with the delicate balance of man and nature… See, the people here are, perhaps some of you could say, old-fashioned. But I’d prefer to call them _wise_. And one of the wisest people here was Kyungsoo’s father.”

Jongin nods. He doesn’t have any idea what that has to do with Kyungsoo literally sleeping with the fishes in the spring’s cold, but he waits.

Ben continues, “I haven’t been here long. No, not quite. But I feel like I was a good friend of the child’s father’s. Do Honggil was a fisherman, and an explorer of his own right. He had two sons with her wife, Hiya. The first-born left for the city ꟷhe was made for it, you seeꟷ and Kyungsoo stayed with Honggil and Hiya.”

“Honggil was a brilliant sailor, and an even greater man. But he was a sad man,” Ben says. “Was never truly happy until the day he died, until the time had come for his ashes to be spread over the beach. To turn like dust, in the seas of Yansung-ri, like his swordfish daemon did.”

Jongin’s heart leapt to his throat. Pierangelli is by his side, suddenly, howling in despair. Jongin clutches her head close to his chest.

Ben looks at them and at the shadow by the beach, eyes filled with melancholy. “To be apart from your daemon is to know an excruciating amount of pain, which I do not wish for anyone to discover. I should say that Kyungsoo is a lot like his father. Best sailor we’ve ever had in the islands. Knows just where the wind will blow, where the sail must turn for north.”

“But he’s not ꟷ” Jongin stammers. “Is he…”

“As soon as his daemon settled into its permanent form, they are rarely seen together. The stars had willed them to be so,” Ben says. “But they’re never truly apart, Jongin. His daemon is always there, by the sea. And ever since he was a child Kyungsoo had loved the sea more than land. Perhaps that is why his daemon is how she is.”

Jongin sits there shivering, but not from the cold. He justꟷ he can’t imagine not having a daemon; it’s the same as not having a body to live with, and not having a soul to live for. Human beings have had daemons ever since the world began. To not have one is unnatural.

But to have a daemon, and to be cursed with the fate of never staying together until the day you die. Somehow, it sounds even worse.

To have Pierangelli as a dolphin or a whale or a swordfish, and to never be with her on land– Jongin could never stand it.

His thoughts race back to Kyungsoo, and the way he has settled himself under the night sky, his feet dipped into the seawater as the brittle seashells dig onto his back. Jongin then hangs his head low. There’s this deep, boundless sorrow settling on his breastbone.

Pierangelli lays her muzzle on Jongin’s lap and whinnies.

“I’m here,” Jongin comforts her. “I’ll never leave you.”

Ben sighs again. “You must wake early tomorrow, or the waves will catch up to you.” He waves at them. “Have a good night, Jongin-ssi.”

“You too,” Jongin mumbles.

Back in his bunk, Jongin lies wide awake still, remembering earlier this morning. The hike up and down the volcano was more than a four-hour trip. The pilgrimage site must be around six hundred meters above ground, a few more away from the beach. Kyungsoo had been the first person up the fourth peak, and the last one down.

Jongin presses his face on Pierangelli’s soft, comforting fur once more. “I can’t imagine being away from you for more than an arm’s breadth, Pier,” he mutters to his daemon’s neck. “How could he evenꟷ I can’t…”

“Sshh,” Pierangelli mutters back. She licks his cheek. “Go to sleep, Jongin.”

Jongin can’t, but he tries again.

~O~

They’re greeted with a bundle of pretty azaleas on their dining table, courtesy of Ben’s wife, Seyoung. It’s how the islanders bid the visitors farewell, a parting wish for a good voyage ahead.

“You are good lads, all of you.” Seyoung sighs. “I wish my husband would vocally adore my cooking as much as the five of you do.”

“We’ll come back if we can,” Jongin says in between bites of dried fish and steamed rice. The rest of the boys nod in ascent. “Seoul isn’t that far a place from here, I suppose.”

Seyoung laughs. “It truly isn’t.” She and Ben wave them all goodbye by the mooring.

~O~

They’re on the third island before noon strikes. By the coast stand huge, blue flags, flapping against the wind. There are stout, wooden houses with steep roofs and Japanese ivies on every fence. Despite the unyielding presence of the sun, the white-capped waves are stinging cold when they hit Jongin’s face.

Kyungsoo and two of the local men hold onto the rope, heaving together, before tying it around a steel block by the wharf. Baekhyun and the rest jump off as soon as the water’s low enough for them to land safely, but Jongin and Pierangelli wait until the planks are near for them to step on.

“You brought us a squadron today, my boy!” a tall, aging man says to Kyungsoo with a wide smile. “And in the middle of April!”

When Kyungsoo grins at them, it takes Jongin aback. Kyungsoo looks like a totally different person when he smiles.

Now ashore, they gather around what seems to be a campfire nearby the littlest hut. There are children running around, dressed in garments made out of dark, heavy wool. Their daemons are playing amongst themselves, crowing and wrestling on the sandy beach. The air smells like the sea, dried fish, and pine resin.

One of the locals named Dokbung hands the travelers cups of warm coffee. Jongin takes a sip. It’s bland, but he drinks it like it’s the best coffee he’s had in ages. 

“It’s terribly nice of you to come here at this time,” Ilsuk, Dokbung’s friend, says, clasping his wearied hands together and bowing to all of them. “We usually don’t have any visitors in the spring months, and this is a nice change for us. It is a good omen.”

“It’s nothing at all,” Yixing says, bowing. “This is a great place to be, and we’ll definitely take all the wonderful memories we have here to China.”

It’s the right thing to say. Ilsuk and Dokbung both hum in pleasure.

Kyungsoo, Ilsuk and Dokbung show them around the tiny settlement. Jongin is absolutely taken with the kids– they are energetic, and a whole lot friendlier than the prim, metropolitan children Jongin is more than acquainted to.

By two o’ clock, they pack up their things and hike up again for the Spruce Peak, one of the pilgrimage spots in the island, and certainly their most famous. Jongin, having gotten the hang of this hiking thing already, keeps close to Kyungsoo as they march up the rocky terrain.

“I think I’ve already lost a couple of kilograms here,” Chanyeol groans as he stabs a patch of unsuspecting toadstools with his walking stick.

“Your butt does look like it’s seen better days,” Lu Han comments. 

Kyungsoo says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tourist any thinner than he was when he first came here. Usually, people overeat once food comes.”

“Ha!” Baekhyun says spitefully.

Byrone asks Lu Han, “Are we there yet?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Lu Han gives Kyungsoo a look, and Kyungsoo promptly answers, “It’s a one and half-hour hike. We’re about halfway there.”

“I like this place,” Rika hoots. “There are a lot of rats in here. Fat and juicy too.”

Byrone squeaks at her in contempt.

“Say, Kyungsoo-ssi,” Chanyeol starts. “How long have you been doing this?”

Kyungsoo wasn’t expecting that question. As he tosses spruce seedlings aside that were blocking the path, he gazes skyward, counting back on the years, perhaps. He says, “More than four years, but I’ve been coasting the seas for far longer.”

Jongin can see that is true– there are thick rope burns running across his palm, thickened and hardened by brine, and his forearms are covered with obvious scars, like old wounds sustained from talons of a great bird. They are marks that he, Ilsuk, Dokbung and most of the villagers seem to share.

Jongin can’t keep his curiosity in for any longer. Pierangelli must have sensed what is coming, for she gallops across the fallen maple tree, and is next to her human’s side in just seconds.

“Where is your daemon, Kyungsoo-ssi?” Jongin says.

He might as well have asked, _“Are you a zombie?”_. Lu Han and Chanyeol gape at Jongin, their expressions equally scandalized. 

Kyungsoo stops from walking. He turns to look at Jongin in the eye. His face is gaunt and not exactly young, but there’s something there.

“I think Uncle Ben has already told you,” Kyungsoo says evenly.

Jongin shrugs, not knowing what else to do.

Kyungsoo bites the inside of his cheek before slightly tilting his head towards the direction of the sea. “She’s at the dock, close by the fishing boat.”

Yixing forms an ‘o’ with his mouth. Baekhyun scrambles up to Kyungsoo’s side and says, “Really? She’s not invisible or anything?”

Kyungsoo chuckles a little, shaking his head. “I don’t think Haraja will take to that kindly, but yes, she’s not. She’s been with us ever since we’ve set sail. You folks just haven’t noticed her yet, I suppose.”

Jongin, feeling a lot braver now, questions, “Was that from your daemon? That thing around your neck?” It’s a white conch shell, anchored by a thin, black string, peeking from the neckline of Kyungsoo’s shirt. Jongin saw him quite a few times fiddling with it as they travel through the mountains.

Now, Kyungsoo looks genuinely surprised, but he regains his footing. He takes out the pendant and shows it to them. “ _Fluctuat nec mergitur_ ,” Kyungsoo narrates. The light of the sun winks off the crusted shell. He shrugs. “Old saying. The people of the south think of strombus shells as a talisman of some sorts.”

“It looks kinda cool,” Jongin admits.

“I’ll have Haraja get one for you guys, if you’d like,” Kyungsoo says easily, hiding the necklace again from view. “A souvenir.”

Jongin is flustered. He looks back on the shell-shocked faces of his friends, and mutters, “Um. Thanks.”

Kyungsoo’s mouth is twisted to one side, like he’s biting back a smile. He shakes his head and leads the way again.

…

“What did he mean, _Uncle Ben has already told you_?” Baekhyun hisses at him once they’re back to civilization. Kantour squawks at him, because of course she’s on Baekhyun’s side.

“I think that means what he says he means,” Jongin mutters, playing with the fish meat with his chopsticks. He doesn’t have much of an appetite tonight.

“Oh, fuck you,” Chanyeol says. “You don’t get to keep any secrets from us. Besides, you’re pretty bad at it. What was that all about?”

Jongin sighs and drops his chopsticks all together. “Look, guys. I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Lu Han says. “No. No, no. You’re going to spill the beans right now, and keep it as simple and as truthful as possible. Dumb, strange shit happens all the time when you get curious, Jongin. C’mon, man. I’ve heard _stories_.”

“You guys are getting a little presumptuous over here.” There hadn’t been any incidents that stemmed from his going over the boundaries, in recent Kim Jongin folklore. From what he knows, he hasn’t done anything remotely embarrassing as of late.

“The Karaoke Grandslam of 2013 comes to mind,” Yixing says generously.

Everybody save for Jongin laughs, remembering, andꟷ yeah, Jongin grudgingly concedes. That was sort of humiliating, and way too fresh for Jongin to completely be over with.

“You had Junmyeon-ssi reduced to nothing but tears, Jongin. Tears!” Lu Han exclaims.

“This will not end in tears, okay?” Jongin gripes. “I was with Ben last night cause I couldn’t sleep, and he told me stuff about Kyungsoo when I asked, because I was simply that– genuinely curious.”

“And not concerned of his well-being entirely?” Lu han snorts at Jongin’s expression. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean.”

“I’m looking at you now, you vain asshole,” Jongin says, annoyed. “It’s not like I was asking for the intricate details of Kyungsoo’s lifeꟷ I’m not _that_ curious. Seriously, lay off.”

Chanyeol tuts. “You actually didn’t answer his question,” he points out.

Jeez. “Give me a break, hyung. Have you guys ever looked? Like, really looked at him? At all?” Jongin says. “Come on. He looksꟷ well! You know!”

“What? What, Jongin?” Yixing says.

Jongin licks his lips and shrugs. “He looks… blank, I guess.” He shrugs again and rubs at his eye. “I don’t know.”

Yixing nods. “Okay.” He knocks back his glass of _chamisul_ and directs his gaze outside. From the huge windows of their cabin, they’ve got a good vantage point of the crest of the waves hitting the boulders without rest.

Jongin imitates him, finishing his own _chamisul_ in one go. “I don’t understand why it’s such a taboo. To ask about someone else’s daemon,” he says.

“It’s his soul, Jongin,” Yixing answers, and leaves it at that.

They’re all quiet for a while, until Baekhyun suggests, “Why don’t you ask him to come in for a while, Jongin? Just a few drinks with us. If he doesn’t want to, then that’s okay, I guess.” He gets up from his spot on the table and adds, “I’ll be taking a piss while you’re gone.”

Jongin grunts and stands. The movement rouses Pierangelli, who’s been snoring the whole time at his feet. “Alright.”

He’s a little loose from the alcohol, but it’s probably nothing that he can’t shake off. But then again, there’s the trail he leaves on the beach saying otherwise, and so the wolf daemon quietly sticks close to him, as she always has.

Jongin is way too close to Kyungsoo by the time the other man acknowledges his presence. “Anything I can help you with, Jongin-ssi?” Kyungsoo says without turning to him.

“I don’t know,” Jongin says, and then remembers, “Do you want to have drinks with me and my friends?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Can’t drink on the job,” he says with a small smile on his tired, sunburnt face.

Jongin is expecting that, somewhat. He stands there for a few awkward seconds before sitting down on the sand, a few good centimeters away from Kyungsoo. He takes off his sandals, sets them aside. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem fazed at all again, with that blank face of his betraying nothing, as usual. He's hunched over himself, his oilskin pants stinking of salty cod and gasoline, the tips of his toes coming into contact with the gray-green sea.

And Jongin really, really can’t help but wonder again.

“Where is she right now?” he says.

Kyungsoo blinks many times, breaking off from his reverie. “Oh, um.” He points to a jagged rock formation, north-west of where they’re sitting. “Haraja’s there by the inlet. She’s eating. And getting you guys your own strombus shells.”

Jongin can feel himself blushing fiercely as he plucks up the courage to ask, “What is she like?”

Kyungsoo peers at him. “Do you want to meet her?”

“Yeah.”

Kyungsoo smiles at him before staring after the waves. His eyes are very dark and depthless. “She’ll be back in a minute,” he says softly.

Jongin nods and lets the chilly air wrap itself around his bare forearms. It’s not late, he thinks. Not yet. There are three fisherfolk singing radio pop music off-tune by the other side of the inlet, fixing their nets for the early catch tomorrow. 

“What do you do in the city?” Kyungsoo then says out of the blue.

Jongin’s toes curl, leaving deep imprints in the sand. “I dance, and I teach. I teach dancing.”

“In Seoul?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm.” Kyungsoo stretches his legs, dipping his knees further into the water. The cold must sting, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

_Aren’t you hurt?_ Jongin thinks.

“You do have a strong Seoul accent,” Kyungsoo says.

“I’ve lived there all my life,” Jongin responds, feeling quite ashamed, though he has no clue why. “How about you?”

“How about me?”

“Have you never left Yansung-ri?”

“Never.”

“Is it because of her? Your daemon?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t answer for a long time. “You’re the first one who’s asked me that. Outright,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says, but Kyungsoo’s shaking his head.

“It’s a waste of time to feel fretful over,” Kyungsoo says. “To think that I could never leave the waters. It’s the only life I know.” He shakes his head again. “And the only one I want, I suppose.”

He sounds so sure that Jongin is surprised, for what seems like the hundredth time today. “Your confidence is something I’d like to have,” Jongin admits. “Not to mention you’re slip-knotting skills.”

Kyungsoo laughs, for what seems to be the first time that night. “I haven’t seen anyone fall on bunch of slickrocks so gracefully. Surely you can show me a thing or two.”

“Maybe,” Jongin says. “The locals will think of me as strange, though, if they ever see me pirouetting by the shore.”

Kyungsoo snickers behind his hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I think the people here are bound to surprise you, for sure,” he says. “So it’s ballet you teach?”

“And contemporary dance,” Jongin says.

“I don’t know much about dancing,” Kyungsoo admits. “Just heard bits and pieces from tourists who’ve been here. We’ve had artists and actors and dancers come here all the time.”

“Well, it’s truly a swell place to be,” Jongin says and looks at Kyungsoo. “Don’t a lot of people stay here permanently? Like, outsiders? People like Ben?”

Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose. “Not really. But once in a while people do come and stay.” He pauses. “My mom was from Busan. Then one day, she took a ferry and stayed here for good. I don’t know why, though ꟷmy brother and I never askedꟷ but my guess is that her daemon especially likes it here. Javier doesn’t stand out here as quite as he does in the cities.”

Kyungsoo shoots a quick glance at Pierangelli, before looking onward.

“The fast cars scare Pierangelli sometimes,” Jongin says. He strokes his wolf daemon’s back, again and again, and Pierangelli noses his arm in thanks. “But she hates the waters more.”

“That’s because you’re afraid of traveling by sea in the first place,” Pierangelli interjects.

Jongin playfully holds her by the scruff. “Hey now,” he chides. “Don’t you go blabbing away all my secrets.”

“Why’d you come here, then?” Kyungsoo says. His tone is cautiously curious, not wanting to overstep.

“Baekhyun hyung wanted me to come,” Jongin says. “And hyung’s not the kind of person you can really say no to.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Kyungsoo wryly says, and Jongin laughs. “You still could’ve opted out, though.” Again, curious.

Jongin bites his lip and shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lets out, finally.

And something starts coming out of the sea. Surging from afar, it then slows down as it approaches the shoreline. The moon is bright and kind enough that Jongin can see what sort of creature is making its way toward them.

Haraja, Jongin discovers, is a beautiful, green sea turtle. She has five strombus shells clamped in her mouth. She delivers them to Jongin’s feet before crawling to Kyungsoo’s side.

“Took you long enough,” Kyungsoo tells her, grinning.

Kyungsoo is lighter, _happier_ , than Jongin thinks he’s ever seen him. It makes Jongin want to look away, feeling so much like an unwanted presence in what seems to be such an intimate moment.

“Who is the boy?” Haraja whispers to Kyungsoo.

Jongin stays as still as he can, the way he used to after recitals when he was young. Quiet and meek and all patiently waiting backstage for Madam Koshka and her flurry of criticisms arrive.

Pierangelli’s eyes are reduced to slits, but her jaws stay firmly shut.

“He is Jongin, from the city,” Kyungsoo tells her. “He is a friend.”

Haraja and Pierangelli both visibly relax.

“Hello,” Jongin says.

The turtle’s eyes are as dark as Kyungsoo’s, intense ones, and just as intelligent. She raises her big head in greeting.

Jongin glances at Pierangelli and at the stars above. It’s probably time to go. The fishermen are all gone.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Jongin says, standing up and brushing off the sneaky sand that has entered his trousers. “It was nice meeting you, Haraja. Goodnight, Kyungsoo-ssi.”

Kyungsoo and Haraja bid them farewell, and Jongin lumbers back to the cabin.

~O~

The villagers are teaching them how to fish. The children are exceptionally good at it, and they rambunctiously laugh when Chanyeol snaps the line by accident.

“I liked them better when they were admiring the pictures of my shoe collection,” Chanyeol grumbles, grappling for the makeshift reel again and twisting it viciously.

Baekhyun laughs. “You thought you’d be a natural in this? What exactly were you expecting?”

“Easy-to-learn life skills,” Jongin throws. “And a ‘fishing for dummies’ handbook.”

“Living by the side of the tempestuous East sea is never easy, kid,” Dokbung says with a booming laugh of his own. His lizard daemon is helping him reel his own catch with her tiny claws. “Isn’t that right, Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo is at the embankment overlooking the wharf, too far away to hear them completely. “What?” he yells, and Dokbung laughs again.

“Ahh, that boy. Works too hard. Even in the spring and winter months.” Dokbung wipes the sweat and seawater from his brow.

“He’s our age, isn’t he?” Baekhyun asks conversationally. “But you know. He kinda seems older.”

“It’s the way of the world, and the way of our people,” Dokbung replies. “The sea is our greatest friend and our greatest foe. Just like how the dying moon fills our crates with herrings and snappers, and the morning star ends the land breeze before sunrise. As a young man, I had never understood the riddles of the she-diety.” He glances at his lizard daemon and chuckles. “But not our Kyungsoo. He likes it. Loves it. Just like his father. Old man died knowing nothing but navigating the swirl of the ocean currents.”

Yixing casts a new line. “Doesn’t he get lonely sometimes?”

“Do you think so?” Dokbung says. “Well, I guess that’s why his mother has him taking care of the tourists. Meeting new people from elsewhere must be good for him, I reckon.”

They went up hiking again by the other side of the mountain. Some parts are still edged with snow, and so the trail is extra slippery. Kyungsoo urges them to go slow or they fall to their immediate death.

“Ahh! Here’s something I’ve been meaning to show you,” Kyungsoo exclaims at a shrub filled on one side with curious-looking berries. He cuts off some of the branches inelegantly and holds them out for the group to see.

“It’s edible,” Kyungsoo clarifies, when Jongin and the rest continue to stare at it dubiously.

“Is it sweet?” Baekhyun says.

Kyungsoo’s lips lilt to one side. “Go ahead and find out.”

He gestures for Baekhyun to come forward and asks for the other man to open his mouth. Baekhyun does, and then Kyungsoo plucks a handful of berries and crushes them in his fist like a bunch of grapes, the purplish-blue juice drip, drip, dripping. 

Baekhyun greedily licks the juice that missed his mouth. “Oh my god,” he says.

“Well?” Lu Han and Chanyeol loom around him expectantly.

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun says again. He’s at a complete loss for wordsꟷ and this is Byun Baekhyun.

Lu Han and Chanyeol share a look. Yixing is cackling on the side. Jongin makes a grab for the nearest branch. “I want to try!”

Baekhyun angles for the rest of the shrub. “Go get your own fucking wild berries!” Baekhyun yelps. Kantour flies and perches on a twig sticking out of the crown.

Pierangelli growls at them.

“Now, now. There’re more shrubs on the second peak, and they have plenty of berries for everyone,” an amused Kyungsoo announces, calling for them to follow the trail again.

They pass by a tiny brook, which drains the mountain of its melting snow. Most of the trees this high up the terrain are still buck naked, but there are signs of an awakening wildlife: the hushed singing of the sparrows, salamanders and skinks milling about, the splotches of moss, dayflowers and clovers peeking out from the many patches of white. They soon pass by a magnolia tree in full bloom, much to Jongin’s astonishment.

Yixing snaps a photo of the scenery. “I feel like I’m a changed man,” he says in awe.

“Kyungsoo-ssi!” Lu Han calls from behind. “What if I plant those berries in my backyard? Will they grow?”

“I’m afraid not. Some of the plants here only grow at this altitude,” Kyungsoo says, clambering up a slickrock.

“That’s a shame,” Yixing says mournfully. “I honestly want to take a few of these with me in China. My mom is a horticulturist back home.”

Kyungsoo pushes away an outgrowth of vines for the others to pass through. “If you take them away from here, they won’t survive,” he says.

Chanyeol shrugs. “It is how it is.”

They’re at the second peak before they know it. All the pilgrimage spots seem to be fashioned the same wayꟷ Buddhist signages, acrophobia-inducing cliffsides, and magnificent, billowing trees. But unlike Spruce Peak, there are dozens of wild berries circling the site, and Jongin, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Lu Han and their daemons gather around the shrubberies to feast. Meanwhile, Yixing takes pictures of them and sends them to all of their friends. This part of the mountain has surprisingly good reception. 

Jongin plucks a few berries and motions to offer them to Kyungsoo, only to find the other man standing by the cliffside again, gaze fixed away off yonder.

He looks sad again.

~O~

_He was a sad man. Was never truly happy until the day he died, until the time had come for his ashes to be spread over the beach. To turn like dust, in the seas of Yansung-ri, like his swordfish daemon did._

Jongin wraps an arm around Pierangelli once more, as he felt faint and dizzy from remembering what Ben has said to him. He makes his way out of the cabin and into the night.

“Do you think it’s alright?” Pierangelli asks Jongin as they meander towards the beach.

Jongin shrugs. “If he doesn’t want the company, he’ll just say so.”

Pierangelli makes a guttural noise, but follows.

Kyungsoo isn’t lying down on the sand, so that must mean he’s awake. There’s a basket filled with rolls of line and baits next to himꟷ Jongin recognizes them as the one they’d used earlier. The smell of the sea tonight is crisp.

Jongin and Pierangelli stop walking, once they’ve reached the island’s edge. Kyungsoo peers at them, eyes terribly unfocused.

“She’s far tonight,” Kyungsoo tells them, voice faint. “But she’ll be back.”

He is grasping his conch shell in a very tight hold, hard, against his heart, with cold, trembling fingers. His knuckles turn white at the effort.

_To be apart from your daemon_ _is to know an excruciating amount of pain,_ Ben had said.

Jongin’s eyes prickle, and he looks away.

Tonight, the water is dark blue, and the sky a purplish-black.

_How can you bear it, Kyungsoo-ssi?_ Jongin wants to say. He has never seen anything this cruel before. He’s witnessed how it’s like, knows how sadness creeps, is terribly well-acquainted with broken hearts and broken dreams. But the painꟷ that is entirely different. For the torn ligament, there was anesthetic. For the heartache, there was _soju_. For the loneliness, there is Pierangelli. They were all there before the torment could ever get to him.

Jongin inhales deeply as he sits down. “How far apart can you be from Haraja?” he makes himself ask.

Kyungsoo takes his time answering his question. “It depends,” he says. “Some days are worse than others.”

Jongin looks at Kyungsoo's pale face and says, “Is she having dinner now?”

Kyungsoo nods, smiling a little. “The moon has got a good grip on her,” he replies. Jongin glances above; sure enough, among the blanket of stars, the moon is full. “The fishes are congregating at the swell of the inlet. She’s playing with them and the rest of the turtle folk.”

Nodding, Jongin can’t help but smile as well.

They fall into companionable silence. Together, they watch the tides bending under the will of the moon, pushing and pulling to the rhythm of the east winds. It stings whenever the salt water splashes against the rocks and hits Jongin’s eyes, but he stays where he is. 

Pierangelli starts stirring from his spot in Jongin’s left side and moves towards Kyungsoo.

And then, all of a sudden, she presses her head against Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

The humans freeze, looking at each other in stark bewilderment. Jongin watches in equal horror and amazement as Kyungsoo tentatively reaches out and sinks his fingers into Pierangelli’s fur, and Pierangelli in turn pads herself more into Kyungsoo’s hand.

It’s another one of those great, ancient taboos. Humans are never supposed to touch another person’s daemon. Daemons aren’t supposed to touch other humans either. 

Kyungsoo is the first one to speak. “You’re the first wolf I’ve encountered,” he says, still stroking Jongin’s daemon’s fur. “There aren’t any wolves here in the islands.”

Pierangelli chuckles, honored, and lets out a contented grumble. She crosses her front legs and lays her head on Kyungsoo’s outstretched lap.

Jongin presses a hand to his chest, feeling something warm stirring there as the heart beneath it pounds. He breathes in sharply.

Kyungsoo throws him an inquiring look, but Jongin ducks his head immediately, embarrassed. Pierangelli has never acted like this with anyone before.

“She must think you look lonely, Kyungsoo-ssi,” Jongin settles, his voice tapering at the end, and he hears Pierangelli snort derisively.

Kyungsoo’s answering laugh is light. “Does she?” he says. “I don’t think I am. Not at this moment.”

Jongin turns to face them, and now he can’t keep his eyes off Kyungsoo and Pierangelli, sitting together and waiting for Haraja to show up. Pierangelli’s tail is swishing comfortably across the sand, and is so, so close to the bow of the water.

Pierangelli meets his gaze, and they have one of those silent discussions, the bond between them fluttering as they pour their thoughts and feelings into it.

_He’s in sorrow,_ Pierangelli tells him.

Jongin responds, _I’m not blind, Pier._

_No,_ Pierangelli says. _No, you’re not. But sometimes you really can be._

_Pier..._

_You know what this means,_ Pierangelli insists, and Jongin, shaken, turns away again.

No, Jongin thinks. He doesn’t know what this means.

_We can’t stay here,_ Jongin tells her. His shoulders droop. He suddenly feels so exhausted.

_I am aware,_ Pierangelli says, doleful. She whinnies, and a surprised Kyungsoo strokes her fur just as well as Jongin would until the daemon feels at ease again.

Wolves of the icy north, like Pierangelliꟷ they never truly stay in one place.

~O~

“How is Mission: Befriending The Local Boy going thus far?” Chanyeol says over breakfast, smiling too wide this early in the morning.

Jongin halts his poking on his scrambled eggs. His friends hadn’t seen what happened in the beach last night, had they? They possibly can’t have.

His gaze flickers to Pierangelli, but she’s fast asleep under the rickety table. Traitor.

“Pierangelli likes keeping him company,” Jongin replies. “What with his turtle daemon and all.”

Pierangelli’s long and powerful tail swats Jongin on his right leg and he yelps, wincing. She’s listening, apparently. Jongin glares at her.

Chanyeol laughs. “Out of all of us, you really have the softest heart, Kim Jongin.” He ruffles Jongin’s hair as he takes a seat on one of the chairs. “We still have two days before we leave, you know.”

Jongin stares at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know either,” Chanyeol cheerily says. He pours coffee in their cups and waits for the others to wake up.

…

The bubbles are iridescent, beautiful, as they pop out from where the fishing boat traverses the waters. But they are gone as soon as Jongin sees them. He wonders whether Haraja is nearby, coasting along with the rainbow-colored cods.

There are a couple of boats out here in the strait; the fishermen wave at them, jovial, and Jongin waves at them back. Baekhyun tries to call out, “Hello!”, but his voice gets lost in the roaring wind. 

“You said there’d be a hot spring, right?” Lu Han yells at Kyungsoo. “Do we have to hike again to get there?”

Kyungsoo grins at them, and they all groan.

…

Jongin gets texts from his sister while he’s changing into his trunks.

_You went into some island paradise without telling me????_

_I saw your friend’s pictures of you on sns just now jongin so dont lie!_

Jongin stares up at the canopies. Pierangelli is already with the others, soaking their weary feet in the steaming hot pools.

_I never realized i’d have to tell you & mom where i’d be every time_

He stops typing, then deletes everything.

He tries again, _Sorry the trip was one of those spur in the moment kinda things. Baekhyun happened you know. I’ll bring souvenirs ^^_

“Fuck me,” Jongin mutters to himself. He hits send and jogs to the pools.

He comes back just in time to hear Baekhyun’s story about the bakery he once worked at part-time, with perhaps a few embellishments here and there.

“Ours had the finest bread, south of the river, mind you,” Baekhyun narrates, as Jongin dips himself in the hot waters. “All the rich little shits come to us for pastries or whateverꟷ I don’t even know what the fuck they’re called. But there’s this one little shit named Hee Dongil. Multi-millionaire. Works in real-estate, s’what I gathered. Whatever he was, he’s rich, and he always had his hands up in the air, showering the store with praises about how the skin of the bread is always crisp, how the insides were flavorful, how the sun shines out of our store manager’s ass. He got our pastries delivered to his house. But no matter how rich he was, he never seemed able to pay the billsꟷ the amount of money he owed the owner was stuff of legend in our store.”

“There’s a murder story in this,” Yixing says to Kyungsoo. “Baekhyun always manages to creep in a murder story or two in all of his tall tales.”

“Did he die, Baekhyun?” Lu Han says, bored.

Baekhyun grins and says, “Yes.”

“I knew it!” Yixing yelps.

“Heart attack. Or was it strokeꟷ I can’t recall. But that’s not the important part,” Baekhyun says. “He’s an old, dying rich dude anyway. What’s weird was that Owner Go ꟷthat’s what we call the store ownerꟷ died a few days after Dongil died. And he’s only forty-six years old!”

Someone gasps, for effect.

Baekhyun grins again at his rapt, cooperative audience. “But we workers, we reckon it’s something else. We know Owner Go the best, you know. He was an unmarried, unpleasant man. An angry motherfucker. One of us thinks he’s offed himself, so that he could go after Dongil in the afterlife and lay shit on him on his massive debt.”

Chanyeol says, “What happened to the store?”

Baekhyun shrugs. “I quit the job two months after. I mean, my mom wanted me to. Nothing says like bad luck like the store owner dying in mysterious circumstances. I heard it went under after a few years, which sucks. The bread was really fucking good.”

Chanyeol snickers. “That was a very shitty story, Baekhyun,” he declares.

“Eh. You think you can top that, Lovecraft?” Baekhyun shoots back.

Yixing’s arm shoots up. He’s looking drunk in the heat. “I have one! No one dies here, though.”

“Marvelous,” Lu Han says, and they regroup again for Yixing’s story.

~O~

Back in their fourth rest house for the past five days, Jongin checks his phone once more. There’s a new message, but it’s from his mom this time.

_Tell me when you get back. We need to talk. About where you want to go from here_ , is what it says.

Jongin could feel every one’s eyes on him, even though he’s damn sure they’re really not. Chanyeol’s taking a shower, Yixing is changing into a fresh pair of jammies, Baekhyun and Lu Han are sound asleep. It’s like this sometimes, just the same irrational feeling Jongin gets whenever he steps off the stage, once everything is overꟷ it’s as if he’s being watched, judged, haunted, no matter where he goes.

“Feel like taking a walk, buddy?” Jongin tells his daemon.

Pierangelli hums. “We’ve been taking lots of walks these days,” she answers sagely. She spares Jongin a quick glance. “You must need it, I presume.”

“I sure do,” Jongin says darkly, slotting his arms inside his coat.

…

A voice from behind him says, “Hey. I think you’re in my spot.”

Jongin turns to see that it’s just Kyungsoo.

“Oh, hey.” Jongin finds himself relaxing out of his aggravated hunch and smiling.

“Something on your ꟷ” Kyungsoo’s nose wrinkles. “Stupid question. Of course there is.” 

Jongin laughs. He scooches over, even though there’s tons of space for Kyungsoo to sit on in this place.

As soon as Kyungsoo buries his feet into the sand, Pierangelli is right by his side, nudging him on the shoulders and pressing her snout to the planes of Kyungsoo's chest. Jongin watches as Pierangelli’s tail flicks, like he’s back to being the quiet, soft-eyed wolf cub she used to like to shift into, once.

“You’ve got witch blood in you,” Jongin accuses, and Kyungsoo looks up. “You’ve completely bewitched her.”

Kyungsoo makes a face. “Bewitched a daemon? I don’t know about that.”

“No. You completely have. For sure.” Jongin throws up his arms, making circles in the air wildly. “Like you did with the rest of this town.”

Kyungsoo can only stare at Jongin as he continues, mumbling, “Craziest thing ever. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s soꟷ” Loved? Right, maybe that’s the word. They’ve been in four islands already, and Jongin could hear how everyone in the villages talked about Kyungsoo, cared for him even, as if he was their own son. Perhaps all forty-three islands are united in their singular love for Kyungsoo, the young, talented sailor of the East Sea.

And yet, even with all that love and attention, Kyungsoo is still…

Jongin sighs and looks up at the stars.

“Do you think it’ll be easier if our daemons never settled?” Jongin surmises. He hadn’t realized he’d been curling his hands into tight fists, the broken pieces of seashells digging into the skin of his palm. He unclenches them and proceeds to throw the bigger fragments one by one into the gray waters.

“I’m not sure,” Kyungsoo says. Then, he concludes with a firmer voice, “No. I don’t think I’d like it if my daemon would never settle.”

Jongin glances at him. “Why not? Don’t you want to have Haraja on land with you from time to time? Isn’t that better for you?” He licks his lips. “I remember having loads of adventures with Pierangelli back in the day I hadn’t reached puberty yet. We used to have these little competitions with the other school kidsꟷ whose daemon could outrun each other, whose daemon could shapeshift into as many animals as he could in a minute. And when I got grounded Pierangelli would morph into some tiny rat and sneak in sweets from the cupboard, and we’d hide under the sheets and eat together.”

Pierangelli makes a soft, crying sound, and Jongin says, “S’not like I don’t like how you are right now, Pier. But justꟷ just imagine, you know.” Pierangelli could be whatever she wanted. A beetle, a magpie, a lion, a finch, a shark. At that age, Jongin could be whatever he wanted too.

“Why not?” Jongin asks again, hating how he sounds so much like a child.

Kyungsoo thinks for a minute and begins, “My mother used to say this to us when we were little kids. It’s what the grown-ups always say to their childrenꟷ to appease them or whatever, I’m not entirely sure. But what she said had some truth in it, I think.

“For one thing, I like knowing what kind of person I am. It’s a nice ꟷusefulꟷ thing to know, I mean. My dad’s daemon was a swordfish of some sorts. It meant he’s always destined for the sea, and that he’s tenacious. I don’t know what Haraja’s form means yet. I still haven’t figured it out. But the green turtles in the islands have always lived long, peaceful lives, so it probably means I’m going to be, too.”

Jongin nods faintly, taking it all in. His mom said the same thing, maybe, but he doesn’t remember that much anymore.

“Haraja quickly settled, I think. When I was about fourteen or fifteen. She liked being a turtle even way before,” Kyungsoo tells him. “Changing has always been tiring for her.”

“Yeah,” Jongin says.

Pierangelli has left Kyungsoo’s side and is now licking Jongin’s fingers, twining her tail around Jongin’s neck. It feels warm and grounding. The beach isn’t as nippy as it is in the previous nights, but it’s still remarkably cold. He has no idea how Kyungsoo can manage to be here every night, with only a cotton shirt and oilskin pants to stave off the chill.

“The people here worry about you a lot. The older ones especially,” Jongin says. “You should be smiling a lot more.”

Kyungsoo places a hand over his heart. “I will,” he says.

There’s a muted movement in the water, and then there’s Haraja, poking her head out around a mixture of sea bubbles.

“It’s you again,” Haraja says to Jongin. She doesn’t sound troubled by this fact.

“Hi.” Jongin grins at her. “Have you eaten well?”

“The seagrasses were delicious, thanks,” Haraja says matter-of-factly as she holds out her long, scaled front leg for Kyungsoo to touch.

Jongin and Pierangelli share a look, and he holds back a snicker. They truly are human and daemon, alright.

Jongin gazes back to the sea with much more ease. Though his mouth twists oddly, now in some shape of a humorless smile. The mysterious islands of Yansung-ri have revealed themselves to him as time progressed, and Jongin thinks he’s learned a few frightening things about himself as well. It must be all the fish meat in his system. Or the hiking. Or maybe it’s all the sea travelling they’ve been doing, never staying in one place for so long to leave a lasting mark.

Kyungsoo is tied to the sea, in ways Jongin has never been with anything and anyone. Except with Pierangelli, of course.

Jongin wonders whether he would ever stop wandering, meandering.

Pierangelli licks a stripe on Jongin’s chin. “I’m here,” she murmurs to his ear.

“I know,” Jongin whispers back. “Thank you.”

~O~

The ride back to the first island, where the Yansung-ri village proper nestles, has taken six hours. The seats are cramped, so Jongin can’t get into a good position to sleep through the whole journey. The constant ramming of the waves against the tier hasn’t made it any easier either.

They all make it to the land, bleary-eyed and bone-tired. Jongin drones past the conversation between Chanyeol and the locals and heads for the hut. He’s lights out by the time his head hits the pillows.

…

By the time Chanyeol has succeeded in shaking Jongin awake, it’s already seven in the evening.

“Come on, lazy,” Chanyeol says. “You’re not fucking missing the bonfire or so help me, I’ll have the guys drag you out there by your elephant pajamas.”

And so Jongin crawls out of the hut with sheet imprints still on his cheek. It’s only his friends and Kyungsoo gathered around the small bonfire by the beach, roasting fish and salted potatoes by their sticks. Jongin stares dubiously at the box of beer bottles on the ready at Yixing’s feet before taking a seat next to Baekhyun.

“Go gargle by the seaside, Jongin,” Baekhyun says, and Jongin kicks sand at him.

Lu Han laughs at Jongin’s scowl. “Touchy, touchy,” he sing-songs.

“Here.” Yixing reaches out and hands Jongin a bottle. “Might help you loosen up a little.”

Jongin, still scowling, lets the liquid drag in his throat. He hates being woken up from out of nowhere the most.

“So you’ve never been to the city, Kyungsoo-ssi?” Lu Han prompts.

“No,” Kyungsoo answers.

All the boys save for Jongin and Kyungsoo look dumbstruck. Jongin can clearly see the question they’re all itching to ask, but the taboo prevents them from doing so. Jongin sighs against his bottle of Hite.

“Before we got you here, you were sitting by the beach in the dark,” Yixing says to Kyungsoo, strategically roundabout.

Baekhyun chuckles manically. He gnaws off a potato from his burnt stick and swallows. “No offense, man, but you’re kinda fucking depressing to look at all the time,” he says, all daring and honest now from the beer. “We’re not hassling you to do shit or anything. Just stating an observation.”

Kyungsoo holds up his own Hite in a wry salute. “Thanks,” he says, sounding as unflappable as ever. Jongin might be slightly jealous.

“Do you date, Kyungsoo-ssi?” Chanyeol asks. “What did Ilsuk ahjussi say again? ‘ _Master of the Eastern sea’_ or something?” He knuckles Kyungsoo on the side and hoots. “You must be popular with the ladies.”

Kyungsoo licks his beer-stained lips, mulls over the question and says, “I did, but not so much now.”

Now everyone looks intrigued. Jongin shifts closer to the center to hear whatever Kyungsoo says next. But he ends it there, and so Baekhyun is compelled to add, “You ever messed around with tourists before?”

Kyungsoo throws them a loaded look as he chugs down the last of his beer, and Baekhyun, Lu Han and Chanyeol explode into laughter.

“Ooohh, baby! We’ve got a maniac here,” Baekhyun croons. Chanyeol, theatric guy he is, open two bottles of Hite and flings all the contents at them as he hollers like a baboon. All the daemons frantically steer clear of the golden showers, and Jongin can’t help but laugh along with them.

It’s a nice night out to have a bonfire, with the waning moon lighting up the sea and the leaves of the surrounding trees rustling whenever the land breeze picks up. Byrone is on Emilia’s back as the daemons play around the sand again. There are a couple of local kids watching the group from afar, and though Jongin is half-expecting them to approach, they don’t.

“You ever dated a tourist before?” Baekhyun asks. “Like, _seriously_ dated?”

Jongin hasn’t spoken a word yet ever since he got here so he decides to join in. “You mentioned lots of actresses come here for the holidays, Kyungsoo-ssi.”

Baekhyun’s ears perk up. “Really? Oh _god_. You got anything for us, man? I swear we won’t tell anyone.”

“What happens in Yansung-ri, stays in Yangsung-ri,” Lu Han vows.

“I don’t think any actress would be into this,” Kyungsoo says, holding up his tanned, scarred arms.

“Eyy, don’t sell yourself short, man,” Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo, thumping his shoulder. 

Kyungsoo rubs his face and shakes his head. “Not really into it.” He shrugs.

“Even if they were hot?” Baekhyun presses. “Let’s say Kim Tae Hee or Kim Hyuna strolls into town. Or Seo In Guk, if you’re more into that stuff.”

“Ew.” Chanyeol shudders. “Seo In Guk is not hot, especially for a guy.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I’m just covering all the bases, asswipe."

Kyungsoo’s been keeping his head down the entire exchange, and for the first time tonight, he looks like he wants to hightail it out of here. “It’ll be a disaster, dating tourists, whichever way you look at it,” he finally speaks up and waves his other hand aimlessly. “You know.” 

Yixing and Chanyeol share a glance.

“Yeah, that would kinda suck,” Yixing says, stating the obvious.

“It is what it is,” Chanyeol says again, shrugging.

Lu Han jumps to Kyungsoo’s side and slugs him. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d totally date you,” he proudly tells the other guy. “Tanned forearms and ripped shirts are manly, yo.”

Kyungsoo snorts, trying to contain his laughter. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Our buddy Jongin here is pretty taken with you,” Chanyeol drunkenly announces. “He can’t act to save his life, but he’s got limbs made of maple syrup. And sweet as that too.”

“Oh my god,” Jongin mutters in horror, face growing hot, and everybody else laughs.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” Kyungsoo says dryly. He’s smiling now. “I remember Jongin-ssi offering to do a pirouette for me a few nights ago.”

Everybody else coughs up a lung at that. Even Pierrangelli is managing what suspiciously sounds like breathy wolf chuckles. Jongin throws Kyungsoo a betrayed look.

“You gotta be my new best friend, Kyungsoo-ssi,” Chanyeol gasps, hand over his heart. “You really gotta.”

“He’s mine first!” Baekhyun claims.

Lu Han scoffs and bends down to Kyungsoo’s ear. “Kyungsoo-ssi, do you want to hear what Baekhyun said about your mom?”

“Shut up, you little rodentꟷ” Baekhyun cries, but Lu Han is already graciously proceeding to throw him under the bus.

Jongin is laughing and laughing as their six-day trip draws to a close. He peeks at the corner of his eye once in a while, and he’s glad to see that Kyungsoo is laughing too. Maybe not as hard as everybody else, but there’s a quick smile or two that made Jongin’s chest swell and yearn.

But Jongin can’t look at Kyungsoo for too long. He looks out at the sea instead. 

~O~

It’s seven in the morning the next day. It’s time to leave.

Lu Han knocks his knuckles against Jongin’s thigh as they wait for the second serving of rice and says, “You had a good time, didn’t you?”

Jongin nods thoughtfully. “Of course,” he says with a grin, and a satisfied Lu Han turns back to demolishing his blocks of fresh fish meat.

They were silent throughout breakfast. They’re tired, but exposed and raw like they’ve never been. None of them looks like they want to leave at all, but knowing time, the sentiment won’t last for long. It’s better to leave now, when the forty-three sunsets have yet to show them what life in these Southern islands truly mean. 

Kyungsoo is leaning against the counter made by tough, fibered guano. Like he’s supervising them, for the last time, which strikes Jongin a little humorous.

Chanyeol must have noticed as well, for he says, “Come sit with us, Kyungsoo! Have you eaten yet?” He gestures at the big empty spot next to Jongin.

“I have,” Kyungsoo says simply. He stands up straight and heads for the door. “I’ll see you guys outside!” he then calls.

Jongin reaches for his hoodie and unpockets his phone. There’s still that text from his mother he hasn’t replied to yet.

_I’m coming back to seoul tomorrow. you still have the keys to my place right? make yourself at home mom. love you._

Since the reception here is awful, it takes a while for it to send.

…

Jongin falls asleep halfway through packing his stuff for the trip, and he’s woken up by knocks on the door. He sees his face on the mirror as he passes by it ꟷcheeks pale, eyes bloodshotꟷ and opens the door to the lady master Hira.

“Where’s Chanyeol-ssi?” she inquires in a soft voice. “The others are getting ready outside.”

“Oh,” Jongin says. He hauls up his backpack and duffel bag, flip-flops on. “Sorry about that. Chanyeol hyung’s still showering ꟷsorry, um. He kinda takes a long time when he’s in a mood.”

Hira chuckles, a tinkling one. Kyungsoo’s laugh is a ghost of hers. “Is he, now? It’s okay not to hurryꟷ Baekhyun and Lu Han are still waiting for my last batch of rice cakes to be done so you children can take them with you.”

Jongin bows frantically. “That wasn’t necessary, ma’amꟷ but thank you. Thank you so, so much for accommodating us.”

“Oh, heavens, child! There’s no need to be so thankful,” Hira says.

Jongin looks down and sees Hira’s panther daemon, Javier, regarding him again. He peers into Jongin’s eyes, sees the bleakness in them, maybe. Jongin shoulders on, hoping that it fades.

He thinks back on the stinging cold of his apartment, the profound idleness of his job, and says, “I have to go home. But I’ll come back someday.”

Hira looks at him before cradling his face in her hands and kissing him softly on the forehead. Her hair carries the scent of azaleas in full bloom.

“He’ll never be alone,” Hira says. “And you won’t be, either.”

Jongin nods, understanding, and slings his bag on his shoulders.

…

The harbor is filled with heavy lines, from the trucks that are loaded to the ferry, to the old skiffs that file across the shore. There are stalls where tourists could purchase last minute souvenirs, and that’s where Baekhyun and Lu Han are, buying knick-knacks for their girlfriends.

There’s a child walking around the beach barefoot and holding a pot. He reaches out for Jongin with a handful of yellowing rice and dried fish. “Do you want some?” he asks.

Jongin smiles and shakes his head. “I just ate. But thank you.”

“Hey!” a voice Jongin recognizes to be Kyungsoo’s calls. “Most of your friends’ stuff are already in the ship. Anyway, you forgot this.”

Kyungsoo shows him five white conch shells, each carefully strung in a long, black cord. He hands Jongin the four of them and adds, “Give these to your friends.”

Laughing, Jongin lowers his head so that Kyungsoo can sling his new talisman around his neck. “I think this is way beyond your paygrade, Kyungsoo-ssi.”

“Yep, totally is,” Kyungsoo says.

“Thanks for showing us around,” Jongin says, not knowing what else to say. He’s clumsy, like that first time he found himself alone with a girl. “I know you’ve done this loads of times already, but I hope you had fun.”

“I did.”

Jongin stares at him again. Kyungsoo’s shoulders are odd: strong, yet seemingly old, and the skin around it is in various shades of pink and mellow-brown, perhaps from being under all that exposure from the rural sun, in such different intensities. Jongin, even with his tan skin, looks so out of place here.

“I know you’ve never been to the city, and I know you can’t go there any time soon,” Jongin says, barely above a whisper. “But I’ll visit here sometime. Bring my family with me. And I’llꟷ I’ll bring something back for you. From the city.”

Kyungsoo is silent and still, but he nods when the crew starts calling for the passengers to gather. He then wraps his fingers around Jongin’s wrist.

Jongin’s chest is warm, when Kyungsoo moves to curl over Jongin’s back, a steady hand on his shoulder. Pierangelli whimpers in her spot, head low, and feels the same thing Jongin’s feeling.

This man, whose daemon is nowhere to be found, is just as strange as Baekhyun had speculated. Jongin cannot imagine the pain and the sorrow without Pierangelli closeꟷ it would be akin to having his heart ripped out of him, his soul withering away to nothingness. But Kyungsoo is strong. Not whole, and never will be, but he is strong. And good.

Pierangelli briefly pads her paw on Kyungsoo’s thigh before sauntering back to Jongin’s side. Kyungsoo sends her a smile, tiny but warm. 

“You’ll be in the mainland before sunset,” Kyungsoo says. “Take care of yourself out there.” He pats Jongin on the back, and then they finally move apart. His gaze is unfaltering, like he’s relaying something to him.

Jongin blushes to the roots of his hair. He touches the white shell on his neck briefly. “I will.”

…

Jongin thinks he saw something in the water move, so close to the ferry, but this time, he watches.

A green sea turtle of remarkable size is surging against the waves of the ship, keeping close to the helm, never straying far. Its strong legs keep its head afloat, just enough for Jongin to stare back at those dark, intelligent eyes.

Jongin smiles.

~O~


End file.
